


yes i can (no i can't)

by shatteredhourglass



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Bucky Barnes, Drabble, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, For Stark Spangled Winterhawk Month, M/M, Multi, No Actual Sex Scene Because I Like Torturing Y'all, Short, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 11:09:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16304045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shatteredhourglass/pseuds/shatteredhourglass
Summary: “So, let me get this straight,” Tony starts, and Clint struggles to bite back the gay joke, because there is nothing about this that is straight in any way. “Cap, you and Terminator were fucking back in the thirties, and then you got here and slept with Legolas, our resident slut, and then when you got your boyfriend back he and Barton started fucking too, and what? That’s not enough for you and you need me too?”





	yes i can (no i can't)

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to get something out for Stark Spangled Winterhawk month (hosted on tumblr) so I quickly busted this out. Might make a smut scene at some point. I have this terrible habit of stopping just before the sex, lmao.

“This is a whole big mess,” Clint comments idly.

“You don’t say,” Tony says, sarcasm dripping off his words.

Clint would flinch, but he’s well aware by now that Anthony Edward Stark is all bark and no bite, and so he just settles back into the warm press of Steve’s hand on the small of his back and tries to look seductive. He thinks maybe he looks more constipated, judging from the vaguely concerned look Bucky gives him from where he’s sitting across from Tony. They’d decided to do this now, as a group, but now Clint’s worried if it might have been better if they’d approached him one by one. Tony crosses his arms and sinks back into his armchair, all sleek hair and crisp shirt, completely at odds with the other three’s casual t-shirts and jeans. He looks… more affronted than disgusted, though, so Clint tries not to be too worried. It’s out there now, and if it doesn’t work out, then it doesn’t work out. It’ll be fine.

“So, let me get this straight,” Tony starts, and Clint struggles to bite back the gay joke, because there is _nothing_ about this that is straight in any way. “Cap, you and Terminator were fucking back in the thirties, and then you got here and slept with Legolas, our resident slut, and then when you got your boyfriend back he and Barton started fucking too, and what? That’s not enough for you and you need me too?”

“If it was just about sex we’d hire a sex worker,” Bucky says, unimpressed.

Bucky’s acting like he doesn’t care how this goes, but he was the one who’d brought it up in the first place. Steve does his pining quietly, doesn’t let it show on his face or talk about his feelings, but his relationship with Tony has always been filled with this static tension that makes Clint’s hair stand on end, and they all know there’s something there. Whereas Clint’s happy to admit he’s fantasized about those clever hands and specific Tony Stark energy on him, he’s more into goading people into making a move rather than actually making a move himself. Once Bucky had let Stark at his arm, they’d started talking, and with Tony’s unique brand of charm, Bucky had fallen fast and hard, and he wasn’t nearly as good at hiding it as Clint and Steve were.

It hadn’t helped that Clint had coaxed it out of him by getting him tied down on the bed, tight so he wouldn’t escape, and had fingered him until he’d nearly been in tears from how desperate he’d been. Then Clint had started speaking, just gently, talking about how Tony would do it if he were here, focused and intense and enough that Bucky had been twisting restlessly in his bonds, shoving back onto Clint’s hand as much as he could. And the look on Steve’s face when he’d stopped at the door and seen Bucky, sweaty, wild-eyed and begging, admitting that __yes__ , he wanted Tony Stark between his legs fucking him senseless, had nearly had Clint coming prematurely. The next day, after they’d surfaced at lunchtime, they’d sat down and talked about it.

So here they were.

“We like you, Tony,” Steve says, simple and direct, and Clint watches the way Tony’s expression flicks from anxiety to interest to painfully shy, and then back to neutral. “If you’re not interested, that’s fine, but if you are, we’d like to take you out sometime.”

“What, like dinner?”

“If you want,” Steve agrees, and he looks calm but his fingertips are digging into the bruises he’d left on Clint’s hip the night before, and Clint has to bite back a shiver. Now’s not the time.

Tony turns his amber-bright stare onto Bucky. “You’re okay with this?”

“Stark, you don’t need me to feed your ego,” Bucky says, dry, but he’s looking a little embarrassed. “But yes. I’m more than fuckin’ okay with it.”

Then Tony’s eyes are back on Clint, razor-sharp and unsettling. Clint presses back into Steve’s hand a little for comfort, even though he’s supposed to be the confident one. It’s hard to be flippant in the face of that searching, fiercely intense look. _You want this _,__ he reminds himself. _You want this and Steve wants this and Bucky wants it, and Tony probably wants it too, even if he’s scared of getting hurt _.__ He can see the apprehension in Stark’s eyes, but there’s something else there, something that looks suspiciously like hope and a lot like interest. It makes Clint a little less scared of putting himself out there.

“You remember when you made me those fancy electrical arrows and I said I’d suck your dick?”

Tony doesn’t flush, but it’s a close thing. “Sucking my dick because I made something doesn’t equate to wanting me in on your weird supersoldier sandwich relationship.”

“Well, that’s why I’m not sucking your dick instead of talking and all this bullshit,” Clint reasons. “Come on, Stark, don’t overanalyze it. You want us or not?”

“I…” Tony starts, and then stops. Looks conflicted. “I- I’m not…”

“We’re not asking to slap a ring on it, Tony,” Clint adds. “Just… we want to try.”

“How does this even _work_ ,” Tony says, looking stressed.

Bucky lets out a frustrated sigh and stands up, advancing on Tony where he’s sitting. Clint watches with some awe as he leans down and fits their mouths together, metal hand twisting in Tony’s scruffy hair. Tony doesn’t resist in the slightest, although he doesn’t look particularly enthusiastic either, but when Bucky steps back Tony makes an aborted movement like he’d meant to follow. Clint’s teeth dig into his lower lip, and when he glances sideways at Steve, there’s a stormy expression there that sparks something halfway between fear and arousal up his spine. Before he can say anything, though, Tony shifts up to close the few inches between him and Bucky again and kisses him. With Tony in the driver’s seat, it’s rougher, a little possessive in the way Tony grabs a fistful of Bucky’s black shirt and tugs him closer. Knowing how strong Bucky is, he wouldn’t have to go anywhere if he didn’t want to, but he goes anyway, pulling in closer and bracing his right hand on the armrest.

“That’s good, right?” Clint says, a little mesmerized. “That’s a yes?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Robin Hood, what do you think,” Tony replies, unimpressed as he breaks away from Bucky. He’s still got Bucky’s shirt twisted up in his fingers, holding him close, and Clint can see the palpable _want_ on Bucky’s face even from here.

He’s selfish even at the best times, though, so instead of paying any heed to Bucky he gets up and makes his way over to them, dropping to his knees so he has room to squeeze alongside one muscular thigh and lean up between Tony’s spread knees. Tony watches him with mild amusement, although he doesn’t loosen his grip on Bucky. Clint’s wandering fingers brush over where he can feel the arc reactor under Tony’s shirt, up to his collarbones and onto his shoulders. He barely registers Steve saying something in the background, because Tony’s kissing him with a hint of teeth and it’s deliciously rough in the way he can never goad the others into being. Clint makes a sound into Tony’s mouth involuntarily, soft and overwhelmed, and Tony’s free hand traces his jaw. When Bucky finally tugs him back by the neck of his shirt he’s almost dizzy from it, makes a disgruntled noise until Bucky scowls at him.

Clint knows he should probably move out of the way so Steve can get in on the action, but Bucky’s standing above him now and he can’t quite shove down the urge to rub his face up affectionately against the inside of one denim-covered thigh. Bucky smells like deodorant and sweat, something that might be rust or blood but is nice nonetheless. He registers Steve coming up on his side and shuffles to the right obediently, but that just situates him more comfortably between Bucky’s legs. He runs a teasing hand up one hip and flashes a smirk at Bucky, gets a look that’s more arousal than displeasure in return. God, he’d give his entire SHIELD pension just to get that mouth on his cock.

“I know we said we weren’t here for just sex, but I’m inconveniently turned on and I don’t want to jerk off in the bathroom,” he says conversationally, shifting back on his heels. He hears Bucky’s snort but turns his head to gauge Tony’s reaction, his breath catching in his throat when he sees the heat in the billionaire’s face. Steve’s looking contemplative, clear blue eyes dragging up Clint’s chest and over to Bucky.

“I’ve got the biggest bed in New York,” Tony supplies finally, and Clint can’t help the wild grin that breaks across his face.


End file.
